A Wary Flight
by Hope Raines
Summary: A Warriors fanfic I'm writing... pretty much you need to read to find out what's going on.


Warriors: An Alternate Generation

A Wary Flight

by Hope Raines

"Warriors" © Erin Hunter

Book One

**ALLEGIANCES**

** R I V E R C L A N  
**

**LEADER****: HAZELSTAR—**huge dark ginger tabby tom with yellow eyes.

**DEPUTY: ****BERRYTAIL—**black-and-gray tom with amber eyes and a short tail.

**MEDICINE CAT****: QUICKFOOT—**slender pale brown tabby she-cat with orange eyes.

**WARRIORS** (toms, and she-cats without kits)

**SPIRALSTRIPE—**dark gray tabby tom with amber eyes.

**PEBBLESTREAM—**mottled gray tom with blue eyes.

** APRRENTICE, PETALPAW**

**VINECLAW—**brown tabby tom with dark green eyes.

** APPRENTICE, BOULDERPAW**

**FIRESHADOW—**black she-cat with bright orange eyes.

** APPRENTICE, MOSSPAW**

**ROOTWING—**tortoiseshell she-cat with amber eyes.

** APPRENTICE, FROSTPAW**

**BRACKENWIND—**tawny and cream tom with blue eyes.

**WHISPERCLOUD—**blue-gray she-cat with gray eyes.

**NETTLEBARK—**brown tabby tom with green eyes.

** APPRENTICE, FLICKERPAW**

**TREETAIL—**dark brown she-cat with amber eyes.

** APPRENTICE, FLYINGPAW**

**FOGFUR—**gray-brown tom with light green eyes.

** APPRENTICE, WIDEPAW**

**PALESKY—**pale tortoiseshell she-cat with blue eyes.

**APPRENTICES** (more than six moons old, in training to become warriors)

**BOULDERPAW—**gray tom with amber eyes.

**MOSSPAW—**brown tabby tom with green eyes.

**FROSTPAW—**white she-cat with golden eyes.

**PETALPAW—**pale tortoiseshell she-cat with light green eyes.

**FLYINGPAW—**silver she-cat with blue eyes.

**WIDEPAW—**black tom with green eyes.

**FLICKERPAW—**cream she-cat with tawny-marked muzzle and chest and gray eyes.

**QUEENS** (she-cats expecting or nursing kits)

**FLEETFLIGHT—**lithe pale gray she-cat with green eyes.

**CLOUDYSTREAM—**white she-cat with sky-blue eyes.

**ELDERS**: (former warriors and queens, now retired)

**SHRUBPELT—**brown tom with patchy fur and green eyes, the oldest cat in RiverClan.

**POPPYFOOT—**cream-and-golden she-cat with blue eyes.

**DAZEFUR—**black she-cat with amber eyes, muzzle silver with age.

**EARTHTAIL—**white tom with brown tail and paws and green eyes.

** W I N D C L A N  
**

**LEADER****: KINDLESTAR—**unusually large dark ginger she-cat with blue eyes.

**DEPUTY****: QUIVERCLAW—**restless silver tabby with white belly and amber eyes.

** APPRENTICE, HAREPAW**

**MEDICINE CAT****: CREAMSTEP—**cream she-cat with tawny paws and tail and blue eyes.

**WARRIORS**: (toms, and she-cats without kits)

**LIGHTCLOUD—**wiry golden she-cat with white paws and amber eyes.

**SINGEFUR—**dark gray, almost black, tom with amber eyes.

**DUSKHEART—**dark gray tom with green eyes.

**HAZEPELT—**black she-cat with brown eyes.

** APPRENTICE, RISINGPAW**

**MISTHEART—**pale gray she-cat with orange eyes.

**ICEMASK—**white tom with gray ears and amber eyes.

** APPRENTICE, TOPPLEPAW**

**ADDERTAIL—**golden-brown tabby tom with green eyes.

**CLOVERPELT—**golden she-cat with a dappled coat and green eyes.

** APPRENTICE, DAWNPAW**

**GALEFANG—**pale brown tom with icy blue eyes.

** APPRENTICE, AGILEPAW**

**APPRENTICES**: (more than six moons old, in training to become warriors)

**HAREPAW—**small light brown she-cat with soft blue eyes.

**RISINGPAW—**swift black-and-white tom with amber eyes.

**TOPPLEPAW—**long-haired silver tom with orange-red eyes.

**DAWNPAW—**small brown tabby she-cat with yellow eyes.

**AGILEPAW—**brown tom with large black paws and green eyes.

**QUEENS**(she-cats expecting or nursing kits)

**FERNHEART—**long-haired tortoiseshell she-cat with green eyes.

**BRISKBREEZE—**wiry gray-and-white she-cat with amber eyes.

**POWDERFUR—**white-dappled silver she-cat with blue eyes.

**ELDERS**(former warriors and queens, now retired)

**THORNPATH—**ginger tom with amber eyes.

** T H U N D E R C L A N  
**

**LEADER****: BLIZZARDSTAR—**long-haired white tom with amber eyes.

**DEPUTY****: SLOECLOUD—**black she-cat with white paws and tail-tip and green eyes.

**MEDICINE CAT****: STREAMFUR—**blue-gray she-cat with amber eyes.

** APPRENTICE, MUDSPOTS—**white tom with brown patches and amber eyes.

**WARRIORS**(toms, and she-cats without kits)

**DUSTSTREAM—**light brown tom with clear blue eyes.

** APPRENTICE, GRASSPAW**

**TREKLEAF—**black she-cat with long legs and brown belly with green eyes.

**EMBERFLIGHT—**ginger she-cat with green eyes.

**RUSTLEHEART—**pale golden tabby tom with white paws and blue eyes.

** APPRENTICE, BIRDPAW**

**FLAMEWIND—**ginger she-cat with dark green eyes.

**SEDGETAIL—**brown she-cat with amber eyes.

**DARKCLAW—**pale gray tom with green eyes and unusually dark claws.

**SILVERRUN—**silver tabby she-cat with brown eyes.

** APPRENTICE, GLOWPAW**

**NARROWPATH—**small brown she-cat with golden eyes and a fluffy tail.

**TANGLESTORM—**mottled gray tom with green eyes.

**MOSSFIRE—**large brown tabby tom with green eyes.

**APPRENTICES**: (more than six moons old, in training to become warriors)

**MUDSPOTS**

**GRASSPAW—**tortoiseshell she-cat with green eyes.

**GLOWPAW—**pale gray she-cat with yellow eyes.

**BIRDPAW—**blue-gray tom with bright orange eyes.

**QUEENS**(she-cats expecting or nursing kits)

**FRIGIDLEAF—**long-haired white she-cat with green eyes.

**ELDERS**(former warriors and queens, now retired)

**TWISTFUR—**old gray tom with scarred ears and amber eyes.

**SHADEDAPPLE—**dark tortoiseshell she-cat with blue eyes.

**BARKTAIL—**brown tom with amber eyes.

**CLEARSTREAM—**blue-gray she-cat with a silver muzzle and amber eyes.

**SUBTLECLAW—**golden tom with green eyes.

** S H A D O W C L A N  
**

**LEADER****: SOOTSTAR—**slender silver tabby she-cat with black stripes and blue eyes.

** APPRENTICE, SECRETPAW**

**DEPUTY****: CREEKWIND—**dark gray tom with yellow eyes.

**MEDICINE CAT****DARKWHISPER—**light gray tom with darker patches and green eyes.

**WARRIORS**(toms, and she-cats without kits)

**CROWFLIGHT—**large black tom with amber eyes.

** APPRENTICE, ROSEPAW**

**AUTUMNRUN—**tortoiseshell and white she-cat with brown eyes.

** APPRENTICE, FAINTPAW**

**TINYCLAW—**very small brown tabby tom with orange eyes.

** APPRENTICE, WHIRLPAW**

**MINTCLOUD—**very small pale gray tabby she-cat with bright green eyes.

** APPRENTICE, PINEPAW**

**WISHFUR—**white she-cat with silver flecks and amber eyes.

**SORRELWISH—**ginger she-cat with black flecks and green eyes.

** APPRENTICE, DARKPAW**

**WILLOWSAYER—**dark brown she-cat with orange eyes.

** APPRENTICE, JUNGLEPAW**

**SANDSWIPE—**pale ginger tom with yellow eyes.

**STONEGRIP—**big gray tabby tom with blue eyes.

**APPRENTICES**(more than six moons old, in training to become warriors)

**WHIRLPAW—**light gray tom with barely visible darker stripes and amber eyes.

**DARKPAW—**black tom with dark gray stripes on tail and green eyes.

**SECRETPAW—**ginger tabby she-cat with amber eyes.

**JUNGLEPAW—**mottled brown tom with dark green eyes.

**ROSEPAW—**pale tortoiseshell she-cat with blue eyes.

**FAINTPAW—**pale mottled gray she-cat with blue eyes.

**PINEPAW—**dark brown tom with lighter streaks and green eyes.

**ELDERS**(former warriors and queens, now retired)

**BIRCHPELT—**dark gray tom with amber eyes.

**AIRFUR—**large white tom with battle-scarred legs and green eyes.

CHAPTER 1

_Shadows danced in the apprentices' den_ as the wind rustled the reeds surrounding RiverClan camp. Flickerpaw shivered. Leaf-bare had just ended, but even new-leaf could have chill winds. StarClan had been kind for an unusually mild leaf-bare. If the river had frozen over the cold season, the warm air they had now would free the ice. Flickerpaw knew that probably meant the river would flood, bursting onto the island that was their camp. The very thought of it made her flick her tail warily, her creamy fur blending into the shadows.

The half-moon rose into the middle of the sky, stars swathing around it like spattered raindrops. Flickerpaw sighed—this was her first night as an apprentice, and her ceremony had been so late this day that she hadn't been able to start training with her mentor, Nettlebark. The brown tabby tom seemed serious-minded but also had a good sense of humor, and the apprentice looked forward to the training sessions that lay before her paws. Her paws itched with frustration. Why couldn't tomorrow be here already?

Knowing the moon would be another quarter of the way across the sky by the time she finally could sleep, Flickerpaw silently crept out of the apprentices' den. She moved delicately so she would not disturb her denmates, Boulderpaw, Frostpaw, Mosspaw, Petalpaw, Widepaw, and Flyingpaw. The six apprentices she would soon train with—each of them had a tendency of ignoring her. Widepaw and Flyingpaw had just been apprenticed this night as well, as they were littermates, the same age as Flickerpaw. Petalpaw was only two moons older, but Boulderpaw, Frostpaw, and Mosspaw were the eldest, almost ready to be warriors.

Her paws carried her to an instinctive place: a patch of reeds not far from the medicine cat's den. She picked her way through them quietly, emerging into a clearing that protruded like a cat's tail from the main island. No other cat knew about this—she had gone here since she was old enough to escape from the nursery. She didn't go here every night, but many times a moon still. A small willow tree hung above her, its wispy leaves gleaming in the silver moonlight, protecting her from the world outside.

Idly Flickerpaw stared at one of the small catkins that had fallen from the willow tree. As she focused her gray eyes on it, it began to twitch, and then move upward. Flickerpaw concentrated harder, and it moved above her head to align with the middle of the half-moon. Then she relaxed, and it dropped abruptly to the ground.

It was a trick she had known ever since she could remember. She wasn't sure what it was or how she could do it—she just thought about it, and it would move if she wanted it to. Yet this power she had had its limits—she could only lift light-weight things. It had taken her long enough just to be able to lift a dead moth she'd found, and gradually she had worked her way up to the catkins. Always this had amused her, and calmed her down. She did enjoy doing this. But the trace of doubt that was always buried within her rose again:_Why has StarClan chosen _me _to have this gift?_

Flickerpaw had not told anyone in RiverClan about it; who could she trust? What if it got around to their leader, Hazelstar? The red tabby might accuse her of being a demon and a threat to StarClan's power; maybe even drive her out of the Clan!

_He won't find out_, she decided firmly.

She needed to stop being so tense. The young cat reached up and batted a few leaves from the willow trees, staring at them with wide eyes as they dropped to the ground, forepaws still on the trunk. Just before they hit the sandy floor, her focus sharpened and they lifted back up into the air. Flickerpaw's tail swished as she moved her eyes, making the leaves dance in the moonlight as if the wind was wrestling them around. She made them twist and move in one direction steadily, like the river was, just a few tail-lengths away. As she looked up, she noticed a row of bright stars. Twitching her whiskers, she moved the leaves to line up with the stars, enclosing them in a nest of willow leaves. Purring softly, she shifted them so they danced all around the clearing, and she imagined them as Clanmates, all praising her.

After a while, she curled up beside the tree, still controlling the willow leaves. But her movements had become more relaxed, and finally she just let them drop to the ground. Flickerpaw rolled onto her back, curving away from the tree. Her paws stretching out before her, she gazed up at the half-moon, which had passed its high point and was close to the ground now. She knew she should sleep if she wanted to be fit for training tomorrow, but she was too excited.

Her sharp eyes caught sight of a small rock. It was larger than a pebble, but not too big. _I can't lift that well yet. _

But she tried anyway. Focusing deeply on the rock, she opened her eyes wide again. She trained all her sense on the stone, straining her mind. Her eyes narrowed in concentration. Then, slowly and wobbling, the rock floated off the ground. This was starting to give her a headache, and she hadn't made the rock hover even a tail-length above the ground.

She stopped. The rock fell onto the sand once more.

For the second time this night, she envisioned the leaves and pebbles and bits of bark as Clanmates. She drew the willow leaves into the air once more; her Clanmates called out her name, as if she'd returned with a very big kill. "Flickerpaw! Flickerpaw!"

She closed her eyes, still moving the willow leaves, and let the cheers she heard engulf her. One voice rose above the rest, and she jolted her head up in shock as she realized it wasn't an imagined voice.

"Flickerpaw! What are you doing?"

CHAPTER 2

_Flickerpaw froze in stiff shock_, raising her head with her mouth hanging open in horror. Her eyes, glowing silver in the moonlight, fixed themselves on the cat that pushed through the ferns and into her clearing. Quickfoot—the RiverClan medicine cat—stood there, gazing at Flickerpaw in surprise. With a jolt, she realized that the medicine cats would be traveling back from Mothermouth on the night of the half-moon. The willow leaves fell to the forest floor again.

Quickfoot eyed them suspiciously, then looked up at Flickerpaw. "What's all this about?" she meowed quietly, her eyes wide with confusion and—fear? What was Quickfoot afraid of? The apprentice stopped short. _Is she afraid of _me

"I…" Flickerpaw could not see how she could explain this to the medicine cat, at least not without getting in trouble. She gazed hopelessly at the light brown tabby, but Quickfoot was staring at the leaves again.

"Did you do that?" she murmured in awe, turning her bright gaze up on Flickerpaw. The honesty and trust in her eyes made her know she had to be truthful.

"Yes, I did," Flickerpaw admitted reluctantly. Something sparked inside her, and she flicked her tail, adding, "But I'm still loyal to RiverClan, and to StarClan!"

"I didn't say you weren't," meowed Quickfoot swiftly, resting her tail-tip on Flickerpaw's shoulders. "But I must tell you something. I don't know what it is, exactly—but you have a gift, Flickerpaw, a gift given by StarClan." She paused, glancing up at the stars, then went on. "If you use it right, dear apprentice, they promise it won't burden you. Protect your Clan—in moons to come, they will need you tremendously."

Feeling overwhelmed with the newfound pressure, Flickerpaw cried, "Why me? Why not you or Berrytail or Hazelstar? You mean so much more to the Clan than me! I'm just a useless apprentice!"

Quickfoot had been blinking up at the moon thoughtfully. But at the apprentice's words, she whipped her head around to narrow her eyes. "You are not useless!" she hissed. "All the cats in the Clan have purpose! StarClan think of all the Clan cats as good, with each of their talents. You should feel honored that they have graced you with a new talent unknown to the other cats!"

Flickerpaw glared at her and growled back, "I never asked to be singled out as special!" With that, she darted past Quickfoot and out of the clearing, through the reeds.

Almost as soon as she thrust into the undergrowth, she felt her paws slipping as she splashed into the river. Too late she realized it was much deeper and faster than she thought, and she churned her paws as she struggled to get back onto the island. She saw it getting farther away and swam towards it again, but she was thrashing against the current and she was still too small to swim well. The water crashed over her head, and she felt dimness come over her. The tempting blackness pulled her in, and she kept trying to propel herself onto the island. But she was growing weaker, and it was hard for her to breathe.

_This is the end, _Flickerpaw thought desperately. _I'm going to die._

CHAPTER 3

_All Flickerpaw knew was swirling waters. _The darkness of the river had enveloped her, and she sensed her paws were still lashing against the strong current.

Suddenly she felt something crash into her, and then the feeling of being dragged along like a kit. She thrashed her body, and her head broke through the surface in a scattering of water drops. Her gray eyes were blurred at first, but then they made out the lithe shape of Quickfoot.

The brown tabby was kicking out strongly against the river, her front paws working furiously. Trying to be helpful, Flickerpaw paddled her own paws, but then she felt Quickfoot's teeth clench on her scruff and fell limp. Flickerpaw was amazed by how much strength a medicine cat could have. But then, she reflected, they were in RiverClan. Of course a grown cat could swim well.

Her head ducked underwater and she forced it up again, gasping. She could sense Quickfoot's strength weakening. _Great StarClan, get us back to the island!_

With a sudden push of energy, Quickfoot thrust herself onto the island. Dirt caught all over Flickerpaw's fur, but she didn't care. She was just relieved she and the medicine cat had made it out safely.

Quickfoot shook the water from her fur and glared at Flickerpaw. "You mouse-brain!" she spat. "What were you thinking? You could have been _killed!_"

Although her voice was harsh, there was terror in the medicine cat's eyes. Flickerpaw felt a pang of guilt that she'd frightened this cat and bowed her head. "I'm sorry, Quickfoot," she mewed sincerely, and started padding back towards camp with tail drooping.

"That's all right." Quickfoot gave a soft sigh and paced after her. "Don't go back to your den yet. I have to make sure you're okay from your soaking."

Flickerpaw just nodded and forced her paws to carry her to the medicine cat's den.

"Hold still!"

Flickerpaw relaxed her muscles, screwing up her face as the medicine cat roughly licked her fur. Even with her sleek, water-shedding fur, the river had soaked her to the skin. Now she was laying on a grainy rock in Quickfoot's den as the medicine cat licked her fur the wrong way. The dry rock beneath her was seeping the moisture from her pelt, and before long she felt as dry as ever.

"Thank you, Quickfoot," she meowed, her paws itching to be off. She knew she had to get some sleep for tomorrow, and it was already late. "Good-bye!" She got up and padded towards the narrow reed tunnel.

"It's what I'm destined to do, young one," Quickfoot responded, looking briefly into Flickerpaw's eyes. "Take care."

Flickerpaw felt a pang of unease at the intensity in the orange eyes, and how much of that was directed at her. She flicked her tail to show she had heard and hurried out through the gap in the reeds. She was exhausted, but suddenly she remembered something. Quickfoot must not tell anyone about her power!

She turned abruptly and bounded back to the medicine cat. "Quickfoot!" she panted, then paused to catch her breath. "My gift… Please don't tell any cat," she pleaded. "I'm not exactly a popular cat as is, without this heap of trouble.

"Some cat will find out soon enough," Quickfoot muttered darkly. Flickerpaw suspected she wasn't supposed to hear that, and twitched her ears as the medicine cat meowed, "I won't. It's a secret between the three of us—you, me, and StarClan. No one else needs to know. Just be careful." She paused and added, "You're going to sleep all through training tomorrow if you don't go now, you furball!"

"Yes, Quickfoot!" Flickerpaw leaped through the reeds and darted for the apprentices' den.

She slowed her pace into careful walking as she neared the den. If she woke her denmates up, they'd rip her to pieces. Quietly, Flickerpaw slipped inside and settled down in her nest beside Flyingpaw. The pretty gray she-cat was sleeping deeply, and watching her made Flickerpaw even more tired. She laid her head on her paws, and drifted into sleep.

CHAPTER 4

_Mice, rabbits, and squirrels streamed around her. _Flickerpaw swiped her tongue over her muzzle in anticipation. The Clan would eat well tonight. Instinctively dropping into a crouch, she silently stalked one of the squirrels. It had no idea she was there, gnawing busily on a seed, until she pounced. It began to squeal but Flickerpaw cut its cry short.

Before long she had caught a rabbit and a few mice. Deciding this was enough for now, she dragged her kill back to camp. Whispercloud, her mother, would be proud of her, she knew.

But as she set her prey into the hollow in the center of camp, the fur rotted away from all of it. The prey that had been in the pile of fresh-kill already took effect, and decayed quickly as well.

Suddenly Hazelstar was facing her, with the rest of RiverClan in a tight circle around them. "Traitor!" they yowled. "You have poisoned our Clan. We will be stronger without you. Leave us now!"

Their outraged cries continued, and with horror, Flickerpaw saw unsheathed claws and bared fangs. Even her mother and father, Whispercloud and Brackenwind, were snarling. There was not one friendly face in the crowd.

The growl closest to her made her jump back in alarm, right into the warrior Vineclaw. He hissed and bundled her forward, to tremble in front of Hazelstar once more. He was the cat who gave the loud growl, and before Flickerpaw realized what was going on, he leaped at her with claws outstretched.

The moment that followed was painfully quiet, with cats murmuring excitedly. The RiverClan leader landed on top of her back easily and pinned her down with his front claws. She sensed him lunging forward, preparing to sink his teeth into the back of her neck.

Before the death blow could be dealt, however, she heard a yowl.

"Flickerpaw!"

Flickerpaw jolted awake, fur bristling. _It was only a dream. _She took a deep breath and relaxed to see who had woken her. Flyingpaw was standing beside her, with one paw raised to prod her.

"Wake up!" the gray cat hissed in her ear, but not hostile, as the hissing in her dream had been. "You'll be late for training. It's after sunrise, you lazy furball. Come on; maybe we'll be able to get out there and our mentors _won't _bite our tails off."

Reluctantly Flickerpaw stood up from her warm nest of moss and heather. She stretched briefly, flicked a piece of moss clinging to her pelt away, and followed Flyingpaw out of the apprentices' den.

The sky was gray with dawn, though there were faded orange and pink streaks on the horizon. The crisp, cool air got Flickerpaw's senses racing and awake. Her gray eyes brightened, and she sat by the tree stump near their den while they all waited on their mentors.

She noticed that the three oldest apprentices were waiting a little farther away from the den, clustered on a large, flat rock. They looked as if they had slept well, and their ears were pricked and alert. Each of them kept glancing impatiently at the camp entrance._They seem distracted, _Flickerpaw thought. _Perhaps this is the day of their assessment. I thought I heard them talking about it in the den last night._

She felt a pang of envy that Boulderpaw, Frostpaw, and Mosspaw were so close to being warriors. Widepaw, Flyingpaw's brother, followed her gaze and mewed in a friendly voice, "Hey, that's us in a few moons!"

Flyingpaw purred agreement, and after a moment Flickerpaw nodded enthusiastically. "Yep!" Just then she caught sight of Petalpaw. The tortoiseshell she-cat was slipping quietly out of the apprentices' den; after a moment's hesitation, she padded over to Flickerpaw, Flyingpaw, and Widepaw. "Did he come already?" she meowed, half-nervously.

"Who, Pebblestream?" Widepaw responded, naming Petalpaw's mentor; then he shook his head. "Nope, not yet."

"Here he comes now though," murmured Flickerpaw, watching the mottled gray tom approach, with Nettlebark, Treetail, and Fogfur streaming behind him. Treetail, a dark brown she-cat, was Flyingpaw's mentor, and Fogfur, the gray-brown tom, was Widepaw's.

Petalpaw shot off towards her mentor and together they headed for the reed bed entrance of camp. Nettlebark, Treetail, and Fogfur—close friends—approached their apprentices until they were standing in two rows. One with warriors, the other of their apprentices; Flickerpaw facing Nettlebark, Flyingpaw facing Treetail, Widepaw facing Fogfur. Each apprentice dipped their head respectfully in greeting to their mentor.

Flickerpaw knew that Nettlebark, like Treetail and Fogfur, had only been a warrior for a few moons. The three younger cats would be their first apprentices.

Still, Nettlebark had a certain air about him of an older cat. He was experienced and a great fighter, or at least what Flickerpaw heard of the young warrior. She also noticed that Berrytail, the Clan deputy, often chose him to go on patrols. Flickerpaw knew she wouldn't be let down by the recently-made warrior.

With the greetings over, she began to wonder what was next. Widepaw obviously shared her thoughts, for the thick-furred black tom was bouncing up and down impatiently. Flyingpaw voiced their minds, meowing, "What will we be doing today, Treetail?"

The dark brown she-cat grinned at her fellow warriors and then down at her apprentice. "The three of us trained together, as you know," she meowed. "We found it helped a lot to be with each other and learn new techniques for both hunting and fighting. So Fogfur here"—she dipped her head to Widepaw's mentor—"reckoned we train our first apprentices all together, too."

Nettlebark nodded, and Fogfur added, "What do you three think of it?"

"Great idea!" Widepaw burst out, and his sister nodded enthusiastically. Flickerpaw felt strangely fond of both the cats, and the thought of training with them made her heart leap with happiness.

"Then it's settled," purred Treetail.

"You never answered my question," Flyingpaw pointed out, mockingly stern.

"Ah, yes. Today we will show you our territory and borders," explained Fogfur. "We share borders with ThunderClan and WindClan. They'll rip you to pieces if you trespass on their territory, although we don't have any reason to be shredded apart besides normal Clan rivalry—at least right now. Still, they won't thank you for trespassing! That's why you need to know exactly where the borders are."

The apprentices nodded in understanding. Nettlebark meowed, "Come on, then. We'd best be off while it's still early; it's a long trip. Flickerpaw, I hope you're ready for it."

Not as tired as she thought she'd be after last night's adventure and then the nightmare, Flickerpaw nodded happily. All six cats got up and raced towards the camp entrance, but the apprentices ran the most joyfully, ready to begin their new life.

CHAPTER 5

_"This is what our Clan is known for," _meowed Nettlebark. They were standing at the edge of the main island and gazing down at the river. "It supplies us with fish and water, and also a way of defense from the no-swimmer Clans."

"The water is very shallow here," added Treetail. "You can wade through it."

_Yeah, right, _Flickerpaw thought, remembering how the river had swept her off her paws just the night before. And it wasn't even that far away from here, although it was on the other side of camp. Of course it was possible for it to be shallow in one part and drown-a-cat-deep just a tail-length away, wasn't it?

Widepaw looked alarmed. "Won't the other Clans find it easy to invade us, then?"

"Don't worry," Fogfur assured him. "The other Clans don't know that it's shallow here. And they don't like getting their paws wet!"

"No, they don't," purred Nettlebark. "Do you two remember that ThunderClan apprentice that accidentally slipped into the river?"

"Oh, yes!" meowed Treetail, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Once we got him out, he ran for home with his tail between his legs."

"Didn't you attack him?" mewed Flyingpaw, confused.

Treetail shook her head. "He was just an apprentice," she explained. "He would be outnumbered, and besides, it was an accident that he fell. StarClan forbid that we'd attack the tiny scrap!"

"He was bigger than Treetail when she was an apprentice though," Fogfur chimed in.

"I'm bigger than _you _now, so watch your tail," growled the she-cat with mock anger. She purred and butted the gray-brown tom's shoulder with her head.

"We should get going," Nettlebark suddenly meowed. "We'll act like kits on our next patrol, but we have to be mentors right now, you know."

Flickerpaw, Flyingpaw, and Widepaw exchanged looks. Flickerpaw could see her two friends were amused by the warriors. She was, too. It was good to know that when they were made into warriors that they would still be able to have fun every now and again.

"So, let's go." Nettlebark stepped into the water without pausing. Fogfur and Treetail followed him as he waded across.

"We have to cross it?" Flickerpaw asked her mentor.

"Yep!" he replied cheerily, and turned to glance over the apprentices. "Unless you find another way to get to the other side." He plunged onto the shore and shook his fur, the water drops gliding off it and leaving it glossy. "Come on; it's all right," Nettlebark urged them.

Flyingpaw sprang into the water first, tentatively at first and then pushing her way forward with ease. Flickerpaw followed her, half-expecting the cool water to sweep her off her paws, but it just barely pulled at her fur as it flowed past. She bounded up onto shore at the heels of Flyingpaw.

She noticed Widepaw flinch before he slithered into the water, gritting his teeth. His claws gripped the riverbed and he looked very uncomfortable, moving across the river. With his black pelt, he looked like a staggering crow as he pulled his way up beside Flickerpaw and Flyingpaw.

"Scared of the water, are you?" teased Fogfur, coming up to the side of his apprentice and nudging him.

"No!" Widepaw cried indignantly, hurling himself at his mentor. Fogfur easily rolled him onto his back, pinning him down with sheathed paws.

"Wait till we train you," purred the gray-brown warrior. "Then you _might _stand a rat's chance."

"Get off me, you great lump!" the black tom grunted, struggling free from Fogfur's grasp. He stumbled towards Flickerpaw and she edged to one side. "Don't attack me!" she mewed.

"Now, was that so hard?" meowed Nettlebark, surprising Flickerpaw again. She'd forgotten about the other cats when she was intent on being entertained by Widepaw and his mentor.

"No," Flickerpaw and Flyingpaw replied in unison, while Widepaw gave a noncommittal mutter.

"Good. Let's move on." Nettlebark padded forward again, towards the forest. The river curved towards the woods as well, and Flickerpaw sensed tension in the warriors as they moved beside the river. Suddenly a sharp scent hit her nose, and she curled her lip.

"This is the border, isn't it?" she meowed, suddenly realizing why the warriors were moving so cautiously.

"Yes, it is," Fogfur answered, sounding impressed, although his voice was low. "That smell you smell is ThunderClan. They smell like soiled moss, but ShadowClan is much worse, like a fox that's been dead for a moon."

"What does fox smell like, anyway?" Widepaw asked curiously, sniffing the air as he spoke as if he expected the animal to show up there and then.

"A bit like a dog," Treetail responded; like Fogfur, her voice was also low. "Well, you won't know what that smells like either, but I suppose they just barely smell better than crowfood. You'll know one when you meet one, at least. They have a bright orange coat and a long and narrow, ugly muzzle. They're not hard to miss if there's one creeping around in our territory!"

"All of you, smell the air, and keep that scent well in your mind," Fogfur murmured. "That is the scent of ThunderClan. Straying past the border will get you slaughtered, if not by ThunderClan then by me." He narrowed his green eyes. "Never cross this scent line. Trespassing is against the warrior code."

"They don't have all of the forest, though," added Nettlebark. "We have this strip." As they advanced, he hissed, "See those rocks over there?"

Widepaw nodded. "That's the Sunningrocks, isn't it? ThunderClan and RiverClan have had many battles over it."

"Well said, youngster," agreed Fogfur. "Many of our Clan believe it is rightfully RiverClan's, but I don't care, so long as they don't take any of our territory. As you see, we have plenty of prey even in leaf-bare."

Treetail flicked her tail and added, "I don't see what ThunderClan likes about it. It's just a clump of rocks that get too warm in greenleaf."

"Yes," murmured Nettlebark, padding slowly towards the gray shape, "but it's warmer there in leaf-bare, and fur-clad prey flocks there."

The other two warriors nodded in agreement, and the group fell silent. Wordlessly the dark brown tabby plunged into the water again, followed by Fogfur and Treetail. Widepaw hesitated again, but he thrust himself into the water before his friends lifted a paw.

Flickerpaw padded in next, sensing with a twinge of anxiety that the water here was deeper and she would have to swim in the middle where the current flowed. Widepaw hadn't seemed to notice the change in water level.

With a flash of alarm, she saw Widepaw stumble. Then the black tom was being swept away.

CHAPTER 6

_"Widepaw!" Flickerpaw yowled._

Without thinking, she launched herself after the struggling tom. She hardly heard Flyingpaw wail, "Why didn't you warn us we had to swim in the middle?"

The current swept her off balance, and her paws floundered uselessly in the water. This was just like last night! But then, she had been mouse-brained. This time she was trying to save her friend, and fear for Widepaw lent strength to her paws.

"Flickerpaw! Climb out!" Nettlebark's voice sounded farther away than she thought he was. "Climb out now!"

But the creamy apprentice ignored him. She focused everything she knew on the thrashing black tom ahead, and the direction of the flowing water. Suddenly she felt herself moving with the water, using it to swim faster.

"They're heading for the gorge!" That was Treetail's panicky cry; Flickerpaw could imagine the brown she-cat's fur fluffed up with fear. Then she shook her head, spattering drops of water to either side. She shouldn't care what Treetail was looking like, when they were heading towards the gorge!

She was vaguely aware of the warriors and Flyingpaw chasing after her. She could tell, though, that they wouldn't be fast enough to rescue either of them.

Flickerpaw swallowed. If she failed, both she and Widepaw would be lost.

Widepaw's struggles had grown weaker, but he still scrambled to get out of the ever-churning water. He screamed in fear, lashing out with his forepaws as if he could reach out and grab the shore. Flickerpaw could hear the roar ahead of water falling steeply down into what must be the gorge. She spotted a rock jutting out into the river; Widepaw saw it, too, and threw himself at it, clinging to it with his forepaws. His eyes were wild with terror. With Widepaw on the rock, Flickerpaw had nothing to grasp as she was tossed about in the water.

As she was swept past the black apprentice, she nudged him, trying to push him farther onto the rock. Far from helping him, Flickerpaw's movement dislodged him from the stone. Now both cats tumbled through the horrible water, and Flickerpaw felt the liquid pull become stronger as they neared the falls. Widepaw wailed with terror, and Flickerpaw narrowed her gray eyes. She had to do something, and soon!

Noticing that the roar was growing louder, the cream-colored she-cat looked around desperately. There was no relief from the churning torrent.

But she had to save Widepaw, no matter the cost.

An idea suddenly came to her. It might not work, but she had to and she would try it.

Flickerpaw kicked out strongly against the river. Then with odd strength, she leaped out of the water, only to fall back into it, her paws digging into the sandy riverbed below. The waves crashed against her neck threateningly, and she felt as if she would be swept away, but she held on.

Widepaw crashed past her. As he did, she nimbly reached out with her head and grasped his scruff in her jaws.

_Yes! _Her plan had worked. But now she needed to get him onto shore, and she wasn't sure how she could manage it.

Powered by fear, she twisted her body around, straining at every muscle. The water tugged viciously at her, and she felt her heart sinking. Would they ever be safe?

_StarClan, help us! _prayed Flickerpaw desperately.

As if her warrior ancestors had responded, she burst forward with sudden strength. It was enough for her to release Widepaw; the black tom scrambled onto the part of the riverbed where he could stand freely, and then onto dry land. He gave a triumphant meow and turned to look back at Flickerpaw.

"Flickerpaw!" he mewed in distress. Flickerpaw had been drained of energy and now struggled to stand. She saw her friend crouch to the ground, ears flat, and yowl loudly, "Fogfur!"

But the warriors were already there. Nettlebark shot into the water at once, swimming strongly through to Flickerpaw. He closed his jaws on her scruff and dragged her back to the shore, not once losing his balance. Flickerpaw just hung limply from his muzzle. This was the second time she'd had to be saved from the river.

Now that all six cats were on dry land, Flickerpaw stumbled over to Widepaw. "Are you okay?" she panted.

Her friend had been shaking his water-logged fur; he sat down to look at Flickerpaw. "Yes, fine," he mumbled. "But I never want to swim again!"

"Well, too bad, you've got to." Fogfur came up behind Widepaw, giving his apprentice a friendly nudge. "But don't worry; once you're bigger you'll be a master at swimming."

Widepaw grunted in agreement and looked up at Flickerpaw again. "Thank you for saving me," he purred, blinking gratefully at her.

"I hardly saved you, when I had to be saved myself." She shrugged, glancing at her paws.

"But it was a brave thing to do, youngster." Nettlebark's voice sounded from beside her. "You behaved like a warrior, even if it was foolish," he told her.

"T-thank you," stammered Flickerpaw, expecting rebuke rather than praise. It had come instinctively to dive in after her friend. She hadn't done anything for recognition.

Flyingpaw pounced at her brother. "Are you okay?" she mewed frantically, licking him on the cheek.

The weak tom shrugged her away. "I'm fine," he murmured. But Flickerpaw knew that, like her, he felt exhausted. Well, at least_he'd _gotten enough sleep.

"Are you two well enough to finish this patrol?" Treetail asked Widepaw and Flickerpaw.

In spite of everything, Flickerpaw nodded, and so did Widepaw. Neither of them was going to let a little setback ruin their first day of apprenticeship.

The six cats padded along the edge of the gorge, pausing every once in awhile to leave a scent marker. "This is the border with WindClan," Nettlebark explained to the apprentices.

"The gorge," added Treetail. "No sensible WindClan cat would dare try to invade our territory here, but we do have to watch for the Twoleg bridge and the strip of forest we have from there to Fourtrees."

Flickerpaw nodded, sniffing the air deeply without being told. Over the steep cliff and the water below, she could detect another scent. It was sharp and smelled of wind and rabbits, not musty like ThunderClan was. Even across the gorge, she could feel a fierce wind blowing from their territory. Perhaps that was what their Clan was named for.

The warriors headed away from the cliff, towards camp.

"Surely there's more territory that way," protested Flyingpaw, nodding to where the water continued to stretch out, sided by the steep cliffs.

"Yes, but we can explore that tomorrow," Fogfur told her. "We have to show you the inside of our territory as well, and it's nearly time for us to get back to camp."

Flickerpaw knew that their mentors had decided this for the sake of her and Widepaw and felt a twinge of guilt. But even Flyingpaw would be getting tired soon, surely?

As they trekked through beds of reeds, Nettlebark and the others suddenly veered off to the left. Startled, Flickerpaw followed them.

A huge oak tree loomed up ahead, standing out like a swollen paw among RiverClan's territory. It was leaning to one side; the six cats padded to it.

"This is the Great Oak," announced Nettlebark. "It overhangs a mossy clearing—right over there." He leaped into the shade of the tree, and onto a tall, flat rock that stood to the edge of the clearing.

"Apprentices have most of their training sessions here," Fogfur meowed, as the other cats padded into the mossy clearing. "We warriors like sitting up on the rock that fat Nettlebark somehow scrambled up onto, to observe our apprentices."

"I'm not fat!" yowled the brown tabby from the rock.

"The moss makes the ground springy," added Treetail before Fogfur could reply. "So your pawsteps are silent for hunting, and the ground won't feel quite so hard for battle training."

The three apprentices nodded. Flickerpaw's whiskers twitched with amusement as Fogfur raced to the rock and leaped up onto it, cannoning into her mentor. Nettlebark spat friendlily at Fogfur as he was pushed across the top of the flat stone.

"You see that? You're so fat that Fogfur couldn't even shove you off!" called Treetail.

"Lies!" hissed Nettlebark, prodding Fogfur with one forepaw. "It's just that this so-called _warrior _is too weak! You kit," he added to the gray-brown tom.

"He is not weak!" Widepaw protested loyally.

"Yeah, listen to the majority, mouse-brain," smirked Fogfur, nudging Nettlebark. He gave an exaggerated grunt. "He's too heavy!"

Nettlebark unexpectedly shot forward, shoving his friend into the moss below. Flickerpaw heard a soft thud as the gray tom landed.

Fogfur looked up at Nettlebark in surprise. The dark-colored warrior grinned back, then leaped off the rock.

"Come on, you lot, it's best that we finish up." He ran to stand beside Treetail, flicking Fogfur with his tail as he passed.

The cats were on their way again. They walked in the direction of camp once more.

Fogfur, Treetail, and Nettlebark paused, their heads turned to where a stream ran from the river. Willow trees clustered around the small stream. "Those trees hide a pool that the stream runs into," Treetail told them. "It's a beautiful and well-sheltered place, and good for catching prey."

Flickerpaw gazed out at the cluster of willows. Something gnawed at her to run over to it and stand amid the awe she felt for the area.

"Now, straight back to camp," meowed Fogfur. "Anyone up for a run? Maybe Nettlebark will lose some weight."

Nettlebark growled good-naturedly, racing off towards the camp. The others streamed around him. As she ran, Flickerpaw's mind spun with all that had happened today. With luck, tomorrow would be better; but even if it wasn't, she had the satisfaction of knowing that she was a true RiverClan apprentice.

CHAPTER 7

_By the time the six cats reached the camp, _Flickerpaw felt like her paws were dropping off, she was so tired. A glance at Widepaw told her he felt the same. He padded along wearily, head down and tail dragging in the dust. Flyingpaw seemed tired too, but of course she wasn't as nearly worn out as Flickerpaw and Widepaw. Her rain-colored fur hung neatly from her dry skin; compared to her friends she looked like a small StarClan warrior.

"Finally," Widepaw muttered as they pushed through the reeds.

Flickerpaw gave a faint sound of agreement. When they sat down, their mentors stood in front of them.

"You've done good work today—all of you." Nettlebark's green eyes were sympathetic and gentle as he gazed at Flickerpaw. "But now it's night and time for you to go to sleep."

Flickerpaw suddenly realized the sky was dark.

"Go get yourselves some prey and then to your den," Treetail instructed with a half-motherly tone. "You've had a long day."

The group split up, traveling to the pile of fresh-kill as warriors and apprentices but the younger and older kept their distance. Flickerpaw turned to Widepaw. "Why don't you go back to the den?" she murmured. "I'll bring you back something."

Widepaw nodded gratefully, veering off to pad down the smooth path to the apprentices' den. She watched him go, an exhausted dark shape. By the time he vanished into the grass, she and Flyingpaw had reached the strong-smelling fresh-kill pile. She picked up a plump fish for Widepaw and a juicy-looking water vole for herself. Her belly growled with hunger; she was surprised she hadn't collapsed amid the prey and devoured it all.

Flyingpaw was clawing a mouse from the dwindling heap. She flashed a glance at Flickerpaw and meowed, "I want to tell you how grateful I am that you saved Widepaw's life. You were really brave."

Flickerpaw stared back in surprise. Even without her jaws crammed with prey, she'd have found no words of reply.

"He's my brother and means so much to me," Flyingpaw went on. "If he'd drowned, I don't know how I would have coped. Thank you."

Flickerpaw dipped her head and walked down to her den.

Inside, she saw something she'd failed to notice the night before. Shimmering shells and rocks were scattered around the edges of the den. Feathers were woven into the branches of the willow tree that formed the roof of the den. It was beautiful. Apprentices from the past must have been bringing these things into the den. Surely, she thought, RiverClan was the Clan of majestic beauty and grace.

Widepaw was curled up in the middle of the den. He was so still that at first Flickerpaw thought he was asleep, but as she watched he raised his head. She came up to his side, and dropped the fresh-kill beside him.

"Here," she meowed, nosing the fish towards him and settling down beside him.

"Thanks," he replied. He took a large bite from his fish; Flickerpaw began to eat as well.

When the two young cats were finished with their meal, Widepaw laid his black muzzle on his soft paws, though Flickerpaw knew he wasn't asleep. Something was troubling him: when he looked at her his green eyes seemed distant, and she sensed waves of unhappiness radiating from him.

"Are you okay?" she asked softly.

Widepaw was silent for so long that she was she he hadn't heard her. "Flickerpaw," he mewed at last, "do you think…" His voice trailed off as he paused, and he turned his leaf-colored eyes to meet hers. "Today I could have died. And it's only my first day of training. Do you think StarClan is trying to say I don't belong here as a living RiverClan apprentice?"

Flickerpaw's gray eyes flew open wide. "Widepaw, that's the most mousebrained thing I've ever heard!" she cried. Seeing Flyingpaw, sleeping on her other side, prick her ears in her sleep, she carried on in a lower voice. "Look, if StarClan didn't want you here in the Clan, do you think you'd have lived beyond kithood? You would have died of greencough before you were three moons old, I'll tell you that. Besides, there are cats in the Clan who actually have reason to be punished. And you've done _nothing _to make StarClan want to take you from here."  
"I suppose you're right," murmured Widepaw, although he was clearly unconvinced.

Flickerpaw pressed against him. "Tomorrow will look better, I promise," she whispered, licking his shoulder briefly. "It always does."

Widepaw muttered in indistinct agreement, and they surrendered to sleep.

Flickerpaw's dreams were dark and confusing. She was running on a narrow path that was carved in the middle of the river. The path was like a line that separated the river into two; she was running upstream, for which reason she had no clue.

As she sprinted forward, cats drifted down the river, opposite her direction. She did not recognize any of them, and the water strangely disguised their scent. They seemed intent on something far off, unalarmed by the river.

Randomly Flickerpaw looked up. A full moon shone in the black sky, stars swathing around it like cobweb. Its beautiful light turned her eyes and pelt to silver. And yet shadows lay heavily in front of here. She lengthened her stride, but however far she ran, darkness conquered. Finally she ran into a tree, gasping as her left cheek collided with wood and oak leaves rained down onto her pelt.

Her eyes snapped open. She was curled against Widepaw, her paws brushing Flyingpaw's tail. She raised her head to look through the mouth of the den. Gray light filtered through to her—it must be close to sunrise. Her ears swiveled back as she heard movement behind her: just Boulderpaw, rising from his mossy nest to stretch. Flickerpaw stood up as well, gave an instinctive meow of greeting to her fellow denmate, and pushed her way out of the den.

Streaks of orange covered the horizon, and the air was cold and crisp. A single cloud in the sky turned golden-pink as the sky itself grew paler and paler. As she watched, slowly it became a pale blue, and before very long she could just see the sun on the edge of her world.

Boulderpaw had come and sat beside her; they were side by side but not touching as they watched the sun rise.

"How's training going?" she asked politely, making sure she wasn't disrespecting the older apprentice.

Boulderpaw shrugged, glancing to the den as Mosspaw pushed his way out. "Pretty good, I guess," he admitted. "There's not much left to learn, really. Vineclaw says I'll be a warrior soon, Mosspaw and Frostpaw too, but I can't be so sure. Hazelstar doesn't seem to be paying much attention to us."

"But he ordered our assessment yesterday," Mosspaw pointed out, his brown tabby pelt smooth. "Come on, Boulderpaw; Vineclaw, Rootwing, and Fireshadow wouldn't lie to our leader about how well we did."

Boulderpaw nodded with a purr, nudging his friend affectionately. "Of course," the dark gray tom meowed. "You're right, Mosspaw. I should stop worrying. Hazelstar will appoint us as warriors when he thinks we're ready."

Flickerpaw flicked her tail. "You look almost as big as Nettlebark," she murmured. "_I _think you're ready, whatever Hazelstar says."

"Yes, we are." A new, arrogant voice came up; Frostpaw had come to join them. Her golden eyes narrowed as she added, "But you're not. Can't do anything but drown, eh?"

Flickerpaw felt her fur prickle as she stared at the bigger she-cat. How did she know what had happened to her and Widepaw the day before? "I-I was just trying to save my Clanmate," she stammered. "You would have done the same if Mosspaw was being swept towards the gorge, wouldn't you?"  
She saw Boulderpaw's and Mosspaw's eyes widen, but they were silent.

Frostpaw twitched her whiskers—she probably didn't know it was the gorge they were near, Flickerpaw realized. "Of course not," she sneered. "We are RiverClan. We've been swimming since we were kits. I heard Treetail talking about it to Fogfur last night at the fresh-kill pile. It's funny that our new apprentices can't swim!"

"It's funny that your fur is going to be bloody if you don't shut your mouth," snapped Flyingpaw. Flickerpaw hadn't noticed she had come out as well. Her blue eyes glared a challenge into Frostpaw's golden ones.

Boulderpaw shouldered between the quarreling she-cats as Petalpaw pulled herself out of the den and then Widepaw. "That's enough," he meowed, his tail lashing once. "Frostpaw, leave them alone. Don't forget you tripped up in the water on your first day of apprenticeship."

"You're not my mentor," Frostpaw spat at the gray tom. "Don't tell me what to do."

"Boulderpaw's right." Petalpaw spoke up quietly, her pale green eyes nervous. "We shouldn't be fighting among ourselves. Yesterday Pebblestream and I found evidence of WindClan taking prey from the narrow part of our territory that leads up to Fourtrees. We need to be united as a Clan if they choose to attack."

"WindClan on our territory!" Mosspaw drew a sharp intake of breath, while Frostpaw fixed her scorching eyes on Petalpaw. "What's wrong with their rabbits? Can't they leave us alone?"

Petalpaw shrugged. "StarClan knows," she murmured. "But we're not going to let them keep on with that."

"Does Hazelstar know?" mused Widepaw, his long black pelt bristling.

"Of course," the tortoiseshell she-cat meowed. "My mentor and I reported to him as soon as we got back from our patrol yesterday. He sure seemed angry."

Flickerpaw wondered if Petalpaw had cleverly brought up WindClan to distract the argument. Frostpaw certainly didn't press farther, and besides, her mentor was approaching her, flanked by Treetail and Fogfur.

"Good morning!" he called cheerfully. "Are you ready to start training?"

"Yes," Flyingpaw meowed, working her paws on the ground impatiently. "The sun's well up, now, and I want to learn all I can!"

Treetail purred. "Patience is a good virtue, Flyingpaw," she lectured her apprentice. "If you were more like Widepaw, you would wait for the day to really begin. See, your brother is sitting_patiently _as he waits, _patiently, _for Fogfur to start training him."

Widepaw sat up straighter.

"Good morning, Vineclaw," meowed Boulderpaw. Flickerpaw realized that the other apprentices' mentors had shown up as well.

Before any cat could do or say anything else, a cry rang through the camp.

"Cats of RiverClan! Let all those cats old enough to catch their own prey gather here beneath Smoothrock for a Clan meeting."  
"Hazelstar must be announcing the news of WindClan's prey theft!" Petalpaw predicted excitedly, racing to the clearing in front of the smooth, large stone that Hazelstar addressed his Clan from.

The others followed her. Wanting to stay clear of Frostpaw, Flickerpaw found Quickfoot near the front of the clearing. Mewing a respectful greeting to the medicine cat, Flickerpaw settled down beside her; Flyingpaw and Widepaw sat together not far away.

As the last cats came up, Hazelstar began to speak. "Cats of RiverClan," he meowed—and Flickerpaw could sense anger inside the huge tabby, "yesterday when Pebblestream and Petalpaw were on patrol near the border with WindClan, they found scents of their cats. On _our _strip of forest territory that leads up to Fourtrees."

He paused. Yowls of rage rose up from the cats; even Quickfoot, who as a medicine cat was beyond normal Clan rivalry, seemed angry. "I spoke to Creamstep only two nights ago!" she called out, her voice hard with confusion. "She's small and wiry, but she looked as well-fed as always! Why would they steal prey?"

Hazelstar looked down at her, his yellow eyes missing nothing happening in his Clan. "She might have nothing to do with it," he suggested thoughtfully. "After all, she is a medicine cat; she would hunt for herbs rather than prey and keep to her own territory. For all we know, not even Kindlestar knows what her Clan is doing. But I will be careful. That goes for all of you," he added, speaking to the whole audience of cats now. "Look for more evidence of WindClan stealing prey from us. If you see them, drive them off, but _don't _attack if you don't have to." His gaze traveled to the hostile warrior Spiralstripe briefly. "All of you, find out as much as you can when you patrol in that area. I will use the information to take up with Kindlestar at the next Gathering."

Berrytail nodded, his black-and-gray fur like a shadow just below Smoothrock. "Let's hope she'll show some justice on behalf of her Clan," he growled, twitching his short tail.

Hazelstar twitched one ear. "On a happier note, there are cats here that deserve a ceremony." He gazed down at Rootwing. "Rootwing, are you, Fireshadow, and Vineclaw still sure?"

The brown-and-black she-cat dipped her head. "Of course, Hazelstar."

The red tabby flicked his tail. "Boulderpaw, Frostpaw, Mosspaw, come here," he ordered.

Flickerpaw watched her denmates—their ears flicked up with surprise, and she saw happiness ripple through them as they guessed what was coming. Their mentors guided them to stand at the front of the crowd, and as they passed Flickerpaw brushed her paw against Mosspaw's shoulder. "You deserve this!" she whispered; he just gazed at her in surprise.

Hazelstar jumped down from his stone. "I, Hazelstar, leader of RiverClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on these three apprentices. They have trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend them to you as warriors, in their turn." His gaze was drawn to the cats standing at the front of the clearing. "Boulderpaw, Mosspaw, Frostpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code, and to protect and defend this Clan—even at the cost of your lives?"

"I do," Frostpaw mewed quickly; Flickerpaw suspected she just wanted to speak first.

"I do," Mosspaw echoed, with Boulderpaw adding his voice, "I do."

"Then by the powers of StarClan I give you your warrior names," he went on. "Boulderpaw, from this moment you will be Boulderstorm. StarClan honors your strength and forethought, and we welcome you as a full warrior of RiverClan." He padded to stand before the gray tom, and rested his muzzle on top of Boulderstorm's bowed head. Following the custom, Boulderstorm stooped to lick Hazelstar's shoulder, then stood up and padded back to sit beside Vineclaw.

Their leader turned to stare at Mosspaw. "Mosspaw, from this moment you will be known as Mosscloud. StarClan honors your courage and your loyalty, and we welcome you as a full warrior of RiverClan." He stepped up to Mosscloud and touched his muzzle to the new warrior's head as well; Mosscloud also gave his shoulder a respectful lick, and slipped away to join Fireshadow, his mentor.

"Frostpaw," Hazelstar continued, "from this moment you will be known as Frostrain. StarClan honors your strength and quickness to defend your Clan, and we welcome you as a full warrior of RiverClan." He rested his head on Frostrain's; she crouched low and licked his shoulder respectfully, and turned to sit with the new warriors.

"Boulderstorm! Mosscloud! Frostrain!" The Clan's approving calls rose up. "Boulderstorm! Mosscloud! Frostrain!" Flickerpaw yowled with them, knowing that one day, they would be crying her name—her _warrior _name.

Hazelstar leaped back up onto the Smoothrock. "As it is so early, our newest warriors will patrol and hunt as any other warriors. When it is night, however, they will sit in silent vigil till dawn, as the warrior code declares." His yellow eyes flashed for a tiny moment, and he flicked his tail. "Dismissed."

Flickerpaw stood up, padding over to Widepaw and Flyingpaw, who were getting up as well. "Well, what do you think of that?" she asked them.

Flyingpaw sniffed crossly. "Boulderstorm and Mosscloud are going to be great warriors, I can see that," she meowed. "But Frostpaw—I mean, Frost_rain_—is going to have to learn to watch her tongue before some cat claws it out."

Widepaw shrugged. "I don't mind them—at least, Mosscloud seems pretty friendly, or towards me anyway. Frostrain and Boulderstorm… well, they don't pay any attention to me, or at least much, but the Clan needs more warriors," he pointed out, "what with WindClan stealing prey."

"True," Flickerpaw murmured. She felt apprehension clench at her belly at the mention of prey-theft.

"Why do you think they're taking our prey?" inquired Flyingpaw; her gray ears were pricked with confusion. "I mean, RiverClan is prey-rich, but rabbits run the moors through all seasons. The Clans have been able to support themselves in their own territory always. What's up with them to change it now?"

"Maybe something's happened to the rabbits," suggested Flickerpaw darkly.

"Maybe," Flyingpaw mewed skeptically, "but like what? Do you suppose those hares have decided, 'Oh, it's too windy here, let's go live in the river'?"

Flickerpaw felt her fur prickle uneasily with slight irritation. She wasn't a four-moon-old kit!

"Well, Flickerpaw might be right," put in Widepaw; she relaxed as the black tom backed her decision. "Don't you remember the story one of the elders told us when we were kits? They said that many, many moons ago, Twolegs built shelters beside the river and stole our fish during greenleaf. Perhaps they're catching rabbits now, in WindClan's territory.'

"That's hardly likely!" Flyingpaw argued, although she didn't seem angry. "Rabbits are fast creatures, at least rabbits on the moors. On the contrary, Twolegs are lumbering, clumsy, slow, overweight—"

"Don't talk about Nettlebark like that!"

Flickerpaw jumped a little and looked around. "Hi, Fogfur!" she mewed.

"She was talking about _Twolegs,_" complained Nettlebark. "Not me."

"Oh, whatever, Nettle-eyes," meowed Treetail.

"This is why I am smart and these two are mouse-brains," whispered Nettlebark into Flickerpaw's ear. "Watch."

Her mentor pretended to trip over Fogfur's thick tail and landed on the ground, yowling with pain. Immediately his two friends rushed over to him.

As soon as they were close, he sprang up high, using his hind legs to trip up Treetail and Fogfur. Then he thundered down on them, sitting with a satisfied look on his face.

"Ow!" Fogfur complained, trying to kick Nettlebark off.

Flickerpaw let out a _mrrow _of laughter. Treetail managed to wriggle away, and Nettlebark rolled onto solid ground as well.

"Having fun?" Six heads were raised at the sound of Berrytail's voice. The Clan deputy sat watching them with his short tail twitching. "Stop behaving like kits and start training. We need our apprentices to stay fit."

"Yes, Berrytail." Nettlebark dipped his head, twitching his ears once. Flickerpaw stared at him in surprise. She detected a flicker of annoyance coming from the brown tabby.

"What's up with Nettlebark?" she whispered to Widepaw.

"Huh? What are you talking about?" Widepaw looked puzzled.

"Don't you feel it?" murmured Flickerpaw. "He seems annoyed, like Berrytail irritated him."

Widepaw shrugged. "Maybe he did. I don't know what you mean, though; he seems perfectly fine to me."

Flickerpaw twitched her shoulders as well. It didn't matter, but another thought persisted. Could it be that she could sense the emotions of other cats more than any of the others? Every cat could see that Hazelstar was angry when he spoke of prey-theft, but only she seemed to notice the slight irritation that splintered Nettlebark. A cold lump settled in her belly as she wondered, once more, what her powers meant.

CHAPTER 8

_"Darn! Missed it again!"_

Flickerpaw was sitting in front of the river, Nettlebark at her side. Farther upstream Flyingpaw and Treetail trained, but she didn't know where Fogfur had gone with Widepaw.

"You weren't fast enough," Nettlebark told her. "Your paw has to move like lightning or you'll go hungry."

The tabby tom was trying to teach her how to fish. "Sit so your shadow doesn't fall into the water," he had instructed her. "When you see a fish, scoop it out of the water with your paw, but be quick!" Even as he spoke, his dark paw shot out into the water, and a fish was thrust into the air, glimmering in an arc of sunshine and water drops before falling onto the shore. Nettlebark quickly killed it with two heavy blows from his forepaws.

"Now you try!"

And so Flickerpaw promptly set out to scare every fish away.

Not that she meant to. She was trying hard, but she had to make sure the fish was in a position that she could catch it, and it kept moving so she had to move her paw. Then, of course, it saw her paw's shadow and flitted away.

"Try again," Nettlebark urged her. "You'll get it soon."

_A likely story, _Flickerpaw thought, her tail twitching with frustration. Nonetheless she settled back onto the soft earth and waited.

Before too long Nettlebark mewed softly, "Quick! There's one just there!"

Immediately she sought out the silver shape in the water. Her claws unsheathed with delight, and, fast as wind, her paw shot out. She felt her claws sink into the flesh of the fish, and she withdrew her paw, with the squirming creature still attached. She threw it down hard on the shore, stunning it, and dealt the killing bite.

The warm scents of her prey excited her wildly. Any fresh-kill she'd ever eaten was always cold. But this fish was still warm, and its blood tasted delicious. Her belly rumbled in complaint.

"I'm afraid everything you catch now goes straight to the elders," meowed Nettlebark, hearing. "Although I'm sure they'd be happy to share, if you asked politely."

"I want to catch a water vole!" she declared, looking up at her mentor.

"Not today. Water voles are much harder to catch, because they go down in burrows. You can claw fish from their rocks, but how do you expect to make a vole come from its burrow?" Nettlebark didn't expect her to answer. "That's another lesson for another time. But don't worry, I won't forget to teach you."

"I wouldn't _give _you a chance to forget, stupid furball," she mewed.

"I know, I know." Nettlebark sighed. "Anyway, we need to practice your fishing skills some more. When the water's clouded up, you can't see the fish, and from under the water they're impossible to scent out. So don't touch the bottom of the riverbed, it'll make the water hard to see through."

_I'm not stupid, _thought Flickerpaw.

"And I've heard of another fishing method that a loner taught one of our past warriors," he went on. "It takes a bit more patience and I'm not even sure if it works, but oh well. You take your tail-tip and dip it into the water, and keep it still. That loner says fish will bite the end of your tail, and when you feel it pull your tail out of the water. The loner claimed you could catch fish that way."

"That seems mousebrained," mewed Flickerpaw meekly. "Fish would surely see the shadow of your tail, and why in the name of StarClan would they nibble on a cat's tail-tip?"

Nettlebark flicked his tail at her. "I know," he meowed. "It's just a rumor, really. No cat's had the patience to wait long enough to see if it's true."

"I'm not going to be different from them, then." Flickerpaw twitched her tail. "I don't care for waiting longer than the usual method, thank you very much."

Nettlebark purred. "Smart cat." Suddenly his ears pricked up, and he mewed in an undertone to Flickerpaw, "Fish! There, see it?"

Her gaze flicked to the water, where a silvery fish was being pulled downstream.

"I'll let you have this one," whispered Nettlebark. "Show some skills, little she-cat!"

Quietly, she dropped into a cautious crouch. One paw raised, she eyed her prey. It had no idea she was there; in a flash of creamy fur, it shot up into the air. Flickerpaw batted it with both forepaws, standing on her hind legs, onto the shore, then hit it heavily with another blow. She picked it up by the tail.

"Good catch!" Nettlebark praised her. She stood up taller, pleased.

"You're pretty good with fishing," he meowed. "Sharp and skillful. We need to practice some more, but you're bright and I know you'll master it easily. Let's go find Widepaw and Flyingpaw and see how they're doing."

Flickerpaw nodded and bounded upstream, Nettlebark just behind her. She heard a splash and pushed through the reeds.

Treetail was sitting with her tail curled neatly around her front paws, a glimmer of amusement in her amber eyes. Flickerpaw looked around and saw Flyingpaw standing in the water, looking half-soaked and grumpy.

"What in StarClan's name are you doing?" she gasped.

"I saw a fish," Flyingpaw explained, awkwardly adding, "It swam away."

Treetail purred, "She didn't quite understand that you catch fish with your paw, not by sitting on it." Playfully she added, "Except maybe Nettlebark. He might be able to sit on it and kill it."

Nettlebark coolly ignored her comment. "How's training coming along?" he asked Flyingpaw.

"Pretty good, I guess," Flyingpaw mewed, suddenly sounding shy. "I'm no good at catching fish, though. They always swim away before I catch them."

"I'm sure you'll get it soon," meowed Nettlebark, blinking gently at her. Flickerpaw was glad that her mentor was behaving like… She wasn't even sure, but he was trying to encourage Flyingpaw, at least.

The meows that the others were exchanging drifted into an idle buzz for Flickerpaw. She'd spotted a little fish, a minnow, swimming in tiny circles in the space between two rocks, where the current couldn't pull it away. She cleared her mind and put all her focus on that little minnow. Staring intently at it, she made it rise, squirming wildly, into the air. For a moment she let it float; then with a sudden jerk of her head she made it fly over, into Flyingpaw's fur.

The little gray cat jumped up with alarm, and Flickerpaw purred with amusement. Flyingpaw spun around to face her. "Hey!"

She leaped onto Flickerpaw's back; Flickerpaw screeched and rolled over, squashing her friend beneath her. Flyingpaw grunted and freed one of her hind legs, which she used to kick Flickerpaw off.

The creamy she-cat yowled. As she was flung into the air, she twisted herself around and landed on all fours. Letting out a mocking battle cry, she charged at her silver friend and knocked her off her paws. She sat down on Flyingpaw's side, and drew up one of her forepaws to wash it.

"No fair!" Flyingpaw wailed. "You took fattening lessons from Nettlebark!"

"No cat can be as fat as my mentor!" objected Flickerpaw.

Suddenly she was knocked off of her friend, crashing with a thud a tail-length or so away from the river. Flyingpaw barreled into her.

"Oof!" the gray she-cat muttered. "That felt like a huge boulder hit me."

"Close, but not it," commented Treetail. "More like a Nettlebark hit you."

"That's what I said—a huge boulder," Flyingpaw meowed.

"Now, dear she-cats, what have we learned today?" Nettlebark padded up to them.

"Never make fun of how fat Nettlebark is," chanted Flickerpaw. "He may be very, very overweight, but he uses that as his weapon. Do not make fun of him unless you want to be tossed like a mouse." Nettlebark aimed a playful cuff at her ear, and she ducked away.

"Close enough," he sighed. "Anyway, come along, Flickerpaw. We'll see if the fish have come back to our part of the river."

Flickerpaw dipped her head, mewed a good-bye to Flyingpaw, and obediently scampered after him. When she pushed out of the reeds to where she had been fishing, she stopped. A cat she didn't know was crouching by the river, two of their caught fish in its jaws. Quickly she scented the air; she was downwind, so she could smell it and it could not smell her. Over the scent of fish and water, she picked up the cat's scent. It smelled sharply of wind and rabbits and open sky.

"WindClan!" she whispered to herself.

By luck, the strange cat had not scented them. It was trying to figure out how to carry the third fish.

_That's right, _Flickerpaw thought suddenly, _we're not very far from the Twoleg bridge. That WindClan cat must have crossed it onto our side—its fur doesn't look very wet._

She looked up. Nettlebark was crouching low, flicking her with his tail as a signal to do the same. Cautiously she dropped down, her belly-fur brushing against the ground.

"Flickerpaw," whispered Nettlebark. "Stay here. I'm going to creep up on that tom's other side. Don't do anything until I signal to you." She dipped her head in acceptance.

The tabby tom padded silently through the reeds until he made it to the opposite side from Flickerpaw. She sniffed nervously; the wind had started blowing over the river against their sides. Neither she nor Nettlebark would be detected by scent unless it changed again.

When her mentor was facing the WindClan cat, he flicked his ears at her, and then started padding silently closer. Following his lead, Flickerpaw crouched lower and stalked forward.

Suddenly the intruder spun around. The wind had starting blowing from behind Flickerpaw, carrying her scent to the WindClan tom. With a hiss, the silver tabby raced at her, dropping the two fish he'd been trying to carry away.

Flickerpaw stared in alarm. Nettlebark hadn't shown her any fighting moves! Her ears flat against her head, she yowled and cannoned into the tom. For a warrior, it was considerately small; perhaps it was a trait of the WindClan cats. But she was still so small herself that it would guess she'd be an easy target to pick off.

The silver tabby flew back from the impact, and Flickerpaw felt herself being forced back too. Another challenging yowl sounded from not far ahead. She dug her claws into the soft ground, and she felt her heart sink at the thought of more WindClan intruders. She hadn't been taught any fighting moves—she could hardly defend herself against one enemy warrior!

Then she calmed down a little bit. The cry was Nettlebark's, and when she looked up she saw him throw down the silver tabby and claw pawfuls of fur from its white belly.

The WindClan warrior snarled and sent Nettlebark flying off of him with a kick from powerful hind legs, and streaked away. Flickerpaw bounded after him, but Nettlebark called her back. "It's okay—he knows what will happen if we catch him here again!"

She skidded to a stop and padded back.

"Come on," the dark tom meowed gruffly. "Let's take these fish back to camp. We need to report this to Hazelstar right away."

"Yes, Nettlebark," she meowed, bending her neck to pick up the fish he hadn't gotten. She wrinkled her nose with distaste. This fish smelled of that WindClan tom, and just now Flickerpaw would be happy if she never saw a WindClan cat again.

Nettlebark picked up his pace in a steady trot to camp, but as they walked he steadily sped it up. By the time they pushed through the reeds, they were bounding with long strides and panting.

Nettlebark stopped in the middle of the clearing, with Flickerpaw standing right beside him. "Hazelstar!" he yowled, his striped tail lashing.

"Yes, what is it?" Flickerpaw watched the dark ginger tabby pad towards them. A tail-length away from them, he stopped and sat down. "You smell of WindClan," he mewed coolly; Flickerpaw couldn't sense his emotions.

"Yes, we do, and that's why we're back early," growled Nettlebark.

"Well, don't stand there like a defiant squirrel; tell me what's happened."

"I was teaching Flickerpaw how to catch fish," began Nettlebark. "I caught one to show her how it's done, and afterwards she caught two more. Then we went to see Treetail and Flyingpaw so we could compare progress. They were farther upstream, behind some reeds. When we came back, there was a WindClan warrior there, two fish in his mouth, and he was milling about trying to figure out how to take the third fish. So I told Flickerpaw to wait there—she was downwind of him—while I snuck up on his other side."

"So what happened?" Hazelstar inquired.

"The wind changed directions, that's what," explained Nettlebark. "He smelled Flickerpaw, and when he saw her he dropped the fish and raced over to attack her. She rammed into him, sending them both flying back, and then I leaped onto him and started clawing his belly. He kicked me off and ran away."

"I see," murmured Hazelstar. "What did this warrior look like, exactly?"

"He was a silver tabby with amber eyes and a white belly," Flickerpaw cut in. She remembered how those amber eyes smoldered at her fiercely, and how his pale gray fur had bristled.

"White belly, you say?" mumbled Hazelstar. "That sounds like Quiverclaw—their _deputy! _He's a restless cat who thinks fighting solves everything."

Flickerpaw stood silently. "If their deputy is stealing prey," she mused, "that makes it far more likely that Kindlestar knows, doesn't it?"

"You're right," Hazelstar agreed. "_Kindlestar _is a dishonorable cat, I'll tell you that here and now. I'll bet a moon's worth of dawn patrols that she's up to something."

Flickerpaw stared at him in surprise. Hazelstar wasn't normally unfair, but he was drumming up so much hatred against WindClan's leader that she didn't know what to think. Lowering her tail, she tried to track Hazelstar's feelings. Anger… betrayal… regret… and deep down, she sensed compassion. She didn't know what to make of it. Then she shrugged. It didn't matter, not right now.

"So what are you going to do about it?" Nettlebark asked.

"Right now, nothing." Nettlebark looked ready to object, and Hazelstar went on, "Think for a moment—what _can _we do? I don't want to attack until I discuss this with Kindlestar at the Gathering. Now, if _they _attack, there's something else… Berrytail believes we should attack their camp soon. But how can we be sure Kindlestar knows? For all we know, Quiverclaw is rebelling against her and the warrior code."

"But, Hazelstar—"

"We will wait for the Gathering until I decide." The big tabby's eyes narrowed for a moment, and then he spun around, calling Berrytail to him as he stalked to his den.

Nettlebark sighed with annoyance, and Flickerpaw pressed up against him. She wanted him to be happy, not feeling challenged by all those with greater authority. "It'll be fine," she meowed, trying to encourage him.

Part of her was bewildered at how Hazelstar was switching sides. To begin with he called Kindlestar a dishonorable warrior, but then he was standing in her defense. And the most confusing of all, why the WindClan warriors were taking prey to begin with.

Suddenly the earth lurched beneath her. Nettlebark spun away, and she staggered toward him. "W-what's g-going on?" she mumbled, her head spinning. But he didn't seem to hear her. A wave of dizziness swept over her, followed by utter blackness.

CHAPTER 9

"_From the clouds befalls a storm."_

Flickerpaw could not see, couldn't feel anything. She heard whispering, but when she scented the air she could only smell stars and wind.

"_Yes," _a voice purred. "_The storm will cause more pain, more loss, and more courage than has been for moons."_

_"The clouds will fight," _rasped another voice. "_Loyalty will be tested to its very limits. And the storm will rage down onto the whole forest."_

_"From the clouds befalls a storm," _the first whisper repeated. "_This storm will rage with the power of fire and ice, until water and air are separated and the storm cloud will cease."_

_"Yes, yes," _called the others softly.

_"But the price will not be low, especially for some cats." _ A low, rumbling warning rose up. _"I have foreseen one young warrior who by this war will suffer much."_

The murmurs stirred.

_"Many warriors will give their lives for their Clan."_

_"Loyalty will be hard to keep."_

_"If only some cats would swallow their pride and care about something beyond themselves. No cat would die that day."_

"Who are you?" Flickerpaw cried out. But they did not hear her—and even worse, she could not hear herself.

_"I pity one warrior." _That was the first voice. "_It will bear more pain than any other in this war. And in the end…For that warrior, will it be worth it?"_

"Who are you talking about?" yowled Flickerpaw. "What do you mean?"

_"Will it be worth it?" _Hundreds of whispers echoed. "_Will it be worth it? Will it be worth it?"_

Without any warning, the image of blue eyes exploded in Flickerpaw's face. They were unnaturally bright with anguish. The vision faded, leaving her to listen to the whispers. "_From the clouds, a storm will fall..."_

"Flickerpaw! Are you awake?"

Flickerpaw sat bolt upright. "What's going on?"

"Flickerpaw, do you have any idea how worried you've had us?"

Quickfoot stood a mouse-length away, her pale brown fur fluffed up. Orange eyes wide with anxiety, tail bristling, she looked as if she'd been waiting for death to strike all day.

She shook her head roughly to clear it. "Quickfoot, what's going on? Why am I in your den?"

"You fainted." Quickfoot stared at her carefully. "You were with Nettlebark in the clearing. He told me just a few moments after Hazelstar went off to speak with Berrytail, he heard you mumble something, and when he turned around you were sprawled out on the ground. He ran straight to me, and I've been watching over you since." A purr escaped her throat. "That Nettlebark—he's tied to you like a queen to her kits. I get the feeling he thinks in a way, you _are _his kit—he's responsible for teaching you to hunt and how to defend yourself. For loners, if a queen has kits, she plays mentor for all of them, so it's kind of similar. He kept tramping in here until finally Berrytail sent him off on patrol."

"Quickfoot, I had a dream." Flickerpaw shivered, suddenly feeling chilled. "I couldn't see anything, but I could hear whispers. They said, 'From the clouds befalls a storm'. They spoke of war and death."

Quickfoot gazed at her blankly. "I don't understand."

"I heard them whisper, 'From the clouds befalls a storm. This storm will rage with the power of fire and ice, until water and air are separated and the storm cloud will cease.'" Flickerpaw crouched low. She felt that bewilderment stalked her from every shadow. "I called out, but they couldn't hear me."

The medicine cat looked thoughtful. "I think," she offered, "that you intruded on StarClan's world. But that's not exactly a bad thing," she quickly added, seeing alarm spread on Flickerpaw's face. "You've learned something we need to know."

"But what does it _mean?_" Flickerpaw blurted out. "And why did _I _hear it and not you or Hazelstar?"

Quickfoot twitched her ears. "They did not know you were there, apparently. If you couldn't see and they paid no attention to you, it seems as if they were speaking amongst themselves. Perhaps they mean to send this message to one of us sometime soon."

Flickerpaw sighed and shook her head. "I'm just so confused," she murmured. "Everything's happening so fast, and I have my own secrets to deal with. I don't know if I can cope."

"Whatever happens, StarClan will be with you," meowed Quickfoot.

"Yes," agreed Flickerpaw softly. "StarClan are with us all, however hard life will be."

Surprised at her own wisdom, she staggered to her feet. Immediately her head pounded and she started feeling light-headed again.

"Steady." Quickfoot pressed against her shoulder. "When you fainted, you fell rather hard. Give yourself time to recover, or you'll be about as much use as a dead fox."

Flickerpaw nodded, and both cats sat down for a long moment. Her head swam with dizziness, but as she rested it drained away. She paused for a while longer, just in case it decided to strike again. Finally she stood up, and she realized with relief that she felt perfectly fine.

"May I go now?" she asked.

Quickfoot nodded. "If you feel better, that is."

Blinking gratefully at the medicine cat, she pushed her nose into her fur. "Thanks, Quickfoot," she purred, and loped out into camp.

The sun was well past its highest point, and there wasn't

much going on; she herself was uncertain as to what she should do. She glanced hopefully at the Smoothrock, but Hazelstar wasn't there. There was another boulder leaning against it, forming the mouth of his den; she shrugged and headed for it, pushing her way inside.

Flickerpaw felt a flash of surprise. She'd never been in her leader's den, but somehow she'd expected it to be a cave carved inside Smoothrock. Instead it was a fern-enclosed clearing, with thick beds of reeds rising up around it. For a moment she stared in awe, but realized Hazelstar would be wondering what was on her mind if she just stood there like a kit who'd just seen a bird for the first time.

"Flickerpaw." Hazelstar looked up from a fish he was eating. "What can I do for you?"

"Er—rather, what may I do for you, Hazelstar?" she replied, feeling awkward. He looked puzzled, and she went on, "Well, I'm not sure what to do with myself… so I came here hoping you'd assign me something."

"Ah, yes." Hazelstar twitched his ears at her. "The elders—tend to them. Our new warriors did that, mostly, since they were finished with learning. Now, however, you and your two friends will take that up, as well as Petalpaw. I'm sure they won't be too grumpy."

Flickerpaw purred. "Thanks, Hazelstar!"

She turned and squeezed through the rock-entrance, glad to be out of Hazelstar's den, to stop invading on his privacy. She looked around the camp for a moment, trying to remember the elders' den. Spotting it tucked beneath a willow tree, she loped toward it. She knew from her former denmates complaining that taking care of the elders—hunting for them, checking their pelts for ticks, fetching fresh moss—was a routine apprentice task, and one often grumbled upon. But she didn't mind. It was just showing how fast she was learning if she hadn't anything else to do.

She padded down the tunnel between the reeds, into the hollow where the elders lived. Dazefur and Poppyfoot lay side by side, their heads close together as if sharing a story. A tail-length or so away was the sleeping form of Shrubpelt, curled up in a ball. In the corner of the den sat Earthtail, ears up and alert as if he were a young warrior again.

The three cats who were awake looked up at the sound of her approach.

"Hello there, youngster," Dazefur greeted her warmly.

"Hello," Flickerpaw mewed politely, dipping her head.

"Flickerpaw, is that it?" rasped Poppyfoot, giving a lick to one golden paw. "I recognize that tawny mark on your muzzle. You're Brackenwind's kit."

Flickerpaw dipped her head. "And I know each of you. My mother spoke fondly of all four of you." She paused and added, "She told me to watch my tail around Shrubpelt, though."

Amused purrs broke out among the elders. "Yes, that's a good idea," purred Dazefur.

"He's a grouchy old furball sometimes," rasped Earthtail, speaking for the first time. The other cats turned to look at him and he added, "He doesn't really mean any harm, though. He's a good old fellow."

Flickerpaw purred and then caught herself. She was supposed to be doing tasks for these elders, not gossiping with them. "Is there anything I can do for you? Any of you have ticks or something?"

"I've got one on my tail, but I can pull that one out by myself," mewed Earthtail.

Dazefur added, "And we've still got fresh moss. Petalpaw fetched us some just last night. Although we're nearly half-starved. You wouldn't mind fetching us some prey, would you?"

Flickerpaw felt surprised. Weren't these cats supposed to order her around? _Not that I'm complaining, _she thought hastily. "Of course not. I'm not sure that there's any prey in the pile—I'll go hunting for you." When Dazefur dipped her head in compliance, Flickerpaw turned and darted out.

She glanced up at the sky as she ran to the camp barrier. She could still catch enough fish if she was fast and lucky. No chance of water vole, though—she hadn't any skills for those yet. If she didn't catch anything, she'd get her ears clawed off by starving, grumpy elders.

Pushing through the reeds, she headed up to the river. She wanted to stay in the same spot as earlier today, but she was also terrified of being attacked by WindClan when she was all alone. Suddenly she realized this was her first time outside of camp on her own. Her pelt prickled anxiously.

_StarClan, let me return in one piece!_

CHAPTER 10

_Flickerpaw picked up the scents _of Widepaw and Flyingpaw and tracked them. Perhaps they were hunting, too. She hoped so; it would give her a sense of security, and it was good to be with friends.

It wasn't hard to find them, although she was new with tracing cats' locations by scent. They were crouched side by side on the riverbank, gazing into the water. They were so focused on hunting that they didn't notice she was waiting a few tail-lengths behind them, even though the wind was blowing their scent to them.

_A little surprise for them, _thought Flickerpaw as she crept toward them. When she was close enough she leaped, bowling Widepaw over. He let out a cry of shock and swiped wide, unsheathed paws at her, leaping up and gripping her back.

"Ow!" she complained as he scratched her shoulder viciously.

"Flickerpaw?" mewed Widepaw, but he was too fired up to loosen his grip.

"Widepaw! It's me!" Flickerpaw cried, rolling onto her back.

"Oof!" the black cat muttered. He dragged himself from beneath Flickerpaw's body and shook his fur. "What do you think you're doing, sneaking up on us like that?"

"What do you think _you're _doing, not paying attention to the wind?" retorted Flickerpaw, licking her stinging shoulder.

Flyingpaw stared at them. "Thanks, you two. The fish I had just vanished into the depths of the water, and we all need to eat!"

Flickerpaw and Widepaw exchanged guilty glances. "Sorry, Flyingpaw," they murmured.

Flyingpaw sighed. "It's all right," she meowed. "Just _think_ for once. And help me make up for it."

"I'm supposed to be hunting for the elders," Flickerpaw mewed. "I meant to help out anyway."

"Us too," Widepaw replied, flicking his tail at a pile of fish. "Fogfur and Treetail are on border patrol with Boulderstorm."

"Do you mind if I stick around with you, then?" asked Flickerpaw.

"So long as you don't scare off all the fish again," snapped Flyingpaw. But when Flickerpaw looked at her friend, her blue eyes were glowing softly with amusement. She crouched beside the silvery she-cat and gazed into the water, one paw raised and ready to strike.

When the three cats returned to camp the sun was sinking behind the horizon. Laden with prey, Flickerpaw could tell that the Clan was impressed by how much they caught, even so early in their training. They purred at her and her friends, and Nettlebark raced up to her.

"Flickerpaw!" he meowed. "It's good to see you're feeling better." There was a questioning look in his eyes, but he said nothing else besides, "You hunted well, all of you."


End file.
